


Only The Beginning

by KnightWalker117



Series: From Hell To The Stars [2]
Category: Almost Human (TV), Doom (2005)
Genre: Best Friends, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff and Angst, John Grimm is John Kennex, Leading to something more, No Beta, Reader and John are best friends in this, Sam is only really mentioned, Sequel, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, UAC, Violence, so many typos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightWalker117/pseuds/KnightWalker117
Summary: Sequel to "To Hell And Back" You travel back home to find an old friend to protect him from the UAC. Meanwhile, there is something sinister lurking in the city hunting young girls!Can you and John work together again after spending so long apart or will you end up leaving again?
Relationships: John Grimm/Reader, John Kennex/You
Series: From Hell To The Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075955
Kudos: 4





	1. Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you're here then it means you've most likely read "To Hell And Back"! If you have not I recommend you do so because otherwise, things will not make a lick of sense. I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I apologize for any errors or typos. I have no Beta and I suck at editing my own shi-stuff. 
> 
> -H

The air was freezing and you had been running for a solid hour. Groaning you looked down at your stomach, moving your hand you hissed when it came away soaked in blood. “Damnit,” you growled frustratedly. 

“Can’t run away you fucking bitch!” a voice cried out angrily from behind you. Rolling your eyes you placed your hand back on the gunshot wound in hopes to keep as much blood in your body as possible. The sound of footsteps was getting louder behind you making you sigh heavily, 

“I’m bleeding too much,” you muttered in annoyance. Glancing over your shoulder you quickly duck behind a dumpster. The footsteps slow and come to a jog as they pass your hiding spot. Gritting your teeth you pull the knife from your boot and crept up behind the merc. Steadying your frantic breathing you lunged, plunging the knife into the man’s neck. The merc didn’t make a sound as he crumpled to the ground. Yanking the knife out of the merc’s neck you wiped it clean on the guy’s jacket, 

“Don’t fucking move!” a voice screamed from behind you, huffing a breath you gripped the knife tighter. “Get up and slowly turn around!” the voice screamed again. 

“Okay do you not want me to move or do you want me to get up and turn around?” you asked sassily. The man (You decided) growled, “Get the fuck up. Slowly with your hands where I can see em’ “ 

Rolling your eyes you eased the knife back into your boot and lifted your bloody hands into the air. Groaning you slowly rose to your feet and turned to face the paid mercenary aiming a gun at you. “What the hell are you?” he whispered, hands shaking, a flash of pity coursed through you. Taking a deep breath you looked the man dead in the eyes, “Leave the city and never come back. Final warning,” you offered, voice a deadly calm. 

The man shifted nervously, “They’ll kill me,” he hissed eyes darting around as if the UAC was going to jump out and say “Boo!” 

You grimaced, “I’ll kill you if you give a reason too, run and get a new line of work,” you ground out starting to feel dizzy from blood loss. The mercenary slowly began to lower his gun, “What are you?” he asked again. 

As he lowered his gun you placed your hand on the bullet wound again, “Honey you don’t wanna know,” you grumbled keeping your hands where the twitchy man could see them, you didn’t need any more holes. 

The merc holstered his weapon, “ They want you, really bad. That guy...Kennex too.” he said eyeing you as you opened up a manhole. Wrinkling your nose at the intense smell of piss, shit, and death. Grunting in pain you lifted the dead man, dragging him toward the manhole. “Yeah they’re persistent this time around,” you muttered finally after dumping the body. The distant splash and grinding of the manhole cover was the only sound between you and the merc. Nudging the cover back into place with the toe of your boot you saw that the merc drifted to your side curiously, 

“What are you going to do?” he asked, brows furrowed. “Well, for starters get this mess fixed and maybe take a nap,” you joked lightly moving in the direction of the wall. “I mean with the UAC!” 

Glancing over your shoulder you grin, “I’m going to be a pain in their ass until they leave me and Kennex the hell alone!” 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

John unlocked his front door with a quiet sigh, they were no closer to catching the bastard who had been kidnapping and killing young women. He had stopped two weeks ago and the trail is starting to go cold. John kicked his door shut, balancing beer and take out in his hands; he breathed the air and froze. 

Dropping the bags onto a side table John pulled his gun and entered his living room. A shadow sat against the large windows, curled into themselves. “Not exactly how I wanted to see you again but I didn’t have many options,” 

John choked, “(Y/N)?” 

You grunted in pain as you pushed yourself off of the ground, “You’ve been shot. Why aren’t you healing?” John asked, holstering his weapon. You rolled your eyes fondly, 

“The bullet is still lodged in there, I can get it out by myself,” you mumbled and hissed in pain. John gave you a look, “You know you don’t have to be shot to see me,” 

You snorted and sat down heavily on a chair, “It’s been five years John, I figured that you would want me to keep my distance,” 

John pressed his lips into a thin line, “I was mad, I only heard from you by the occasional postcards you’ve sent,” he grumbled from across the room. Digging through a series of drawers John looked up at your silence.   
“It’s a really long story,” you sighed shifting in your chair; John grunted pulling a black zip-up bag and a flashlight from the depths of the drawer he was searching through. He crossed the room in quick strides, “You’ll have plenty of time to tell me,” he whispered crouching in front of you. 

You huffed a laugh, “Yeah I’m going to be out for a day or two,” John smirked putting the lit flashlight between his teeth, he grabbed a pair of surgical scissors from the black bag. Cutting your shirt open John wiped away the blood with a clean towel, “Why are you in the city (Y/N)?” he asked, his real question is ‘Why were you shot in my city and where is the body?’ 

Clenching your jaw you breathed deeply as John dug around for the bullet stuck in your abdomen. “I’m helping an old friend,” you said cryptically, hands clutching onto the chair’s arms. The metal creaked and groaned under your grip, John raised an eyebrow. 

“(Y/N) what’s going on?”

You took a shaky breath, “The UAC found you and put a rather large bounty on your head,” 

John froze for a millisecond before cursing under his breath, you yelped when he pulled the slug from your abdomen. Dropping it into a glass he quickly placed gauze on the bleeding, healing wound. Panting you dropped your head back, “How many?” his voice was quiet and his eyes practically glowed in the dark. 

You looked away from them, “Four, I convinced the fifth one to find a new line of work,” 

John watched you carefully for a moment; his hand found yours and pried them from the warped remains of the chair. “There are more coming, huh?” he asked quietly. You glanced down at him again, 

“It’s my fault,” sitting up you shook off John’s hands, he sat back on his heels giving you room to breathe. Jumping out of the chair you began to pace back and forth like a caged animal. 

“I found all of them, John. The ARK’s, and I blew them to hell. They-they killed my team and left Hunter in a wheelchair!” You screamed, grabbing the chair and throwing it across the room with a loud crash. John didn’t move or flinch, he simply got to his feet and watched you sadness in his eyes. “It’s my fault, I should have just left them alone,”   
“They were going to find me again eventually (Y/N). It’s not your fault and you know it, and it wasn’t your fault when your team died. Hunter didn’t blame you for the chair either!” John said, keeping his voice calm. He slowly stepped toward you as if moving any more quickly he would scare you off. Tears cascaded down your face, the long sleepless nights, the fighting and, the weight of the world finally catching up to you. 

Quickly turning away you grabbed your discarded coat from the floor and moved away to the open window you came through. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” you mumbled moving to your escape inhumanly fast. John was behind you in a second. 

Wrapping his arms around you, he easily held you in place. “Stop. Take a breath,” he ordered softly. The anxiety within you calmed some at his proximity; taking a deep breath you let it out. John loosened his grip some, trusting you not to bolt for the open window. He moved so he could look you in the eyes, 

“You’re running on fumes (Y/N) I can tell. When was the last time you slept or ate?” you avoided his gaze not answering. John hummed not surprised, “You’re going to sleep and in the morning we’re going to figure out how to get the UAC to fuck off,” 

You huffed out a humorless laugh, “John I’ve been dealing with the UAC for almost six years. They won’t stop until they get what they want,” 

“What do they want? Like you said the ARK’s are gone…” he trailed off when your expression became stormy. 

“They want C24. And the only two people left with it are you and me, they’ll kill one of us and capture the other,” you whispered and John was quiet thinking over his words carefully. 

“We made a promise, remember?” He asked with a small smile raising his pinky finger. You couldn’t help but snort, raising your finger you curled it around his. 

“We made a lot of promises John and I broke a lot of them,” you sighed looking at your best friend.

“We did and you had no choice,” he fired back tone forgiving. You scowled annoyed at being forgiven so easily. “Stop being so nice, you’re freaking me out.” 

John nudged you almost playfully, “We promised to look out for one another and you need to ease yourself back into society,”   
You groaned, stomping your feet like a child. Fingers still hooked together John pulled you into a hug, “Stop being an infant and listen,” 

“Stop being an infant and listen,” you mocked and stuck out your tongue. John rolled his eyes and smiled at how easy it was to fall back on routine. 

“We’ll stop every merc that will come for us and show the UAC that we don’t fuck around,” 

You pulled back a little, eyebrows disappearing into your hairline, “That is the dumbest plan-” 

“It’s brilliant,” he shushed you as he led you into his bedroom. “It’s really bad like we could die or become human pincushions bad,” you muttered with a shake of your head. 

“I’m not sleeping with you either,” you joked, yelping when John threw a spare t-shirt and sweatpants at your head. “Go take a shower, ass,” 

Walking toward what you assumed was the restroom you shot John a cheeky grin. After you closed the bathroom door John let out a sigh, looking out the window at the falling rain John couldn’t help have a knot in his stomach. Something bad is going to happen and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was going to happen to you. John grabbed a spare blanket and pillow from the bed jaw set. 

Depositing the pillow and blanket onto his new bed John stripped out of his clothes before dropping onto the couch. Getting into a comfortable position he secured his gun under his pillow; sleep being the furthest to his mind he let his thoughts wander. 

He thought about your postcards and your mission. You had been keeping the UAC busy, so busy that until only recently that they had left him alone. He hadn’t exactly been hiding, he’s been making a lot of noise. Causing a stir, maybe in hopes that you would contact him, even if it were to tell him to shut the fuck up. The ARK’s are gone, and the UAC is crumbling into nothing, but that doesn’t mean that they’ll stop or not sell their secrets to someone else so they can swoop in for the kill. 

“It’s only the beginning,” he whispered, the truth of the words made him want to shudder. John took a deep breath and listened, the sound of the shower running and you humming softly filled him with warmth. Enough for him to relax and drift off to sleep with the hopes of you still being there in the morning.


	2. Please Behave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly filler and it's short but It's better than nothing I guess! Things will get crazier as the story goes on! Once again I don't have a beta so there will be typos and other errors!

“I think this a dumb idea,” 

You shot John a dubious look from the passenger seat, arms crossed and pouting like a child. John’s eyes flicked from the road over to you, sighing he tapped the wheel with his thumb. 

“It will help you get around the city and into people's business without too much scrutiny,” 

You rolled your eyes, “I can get around just fine, besides don’t I need credentials?” 

John chewed on the inside of his cheek, “I’ll handle that part, you just take the cases you’re given and keep your head down,” he muttered, turning into a closed-off parking lot. “A private detective,” you grumble with a rueful shake of your head. 

John chuckled reaching an arm into the backseat for the messenger bag that was nestled there. Setting the bag into his lap, John went through its contents. “Okay here’s a phone, my number is already programmed in. A gun, and please only use it for emergencies,” 

You shot your friend an unimpressed look, “Thanks, but I figured I would just go shoot a random drug dealer on a street corner,” 

Passing the bag over to you John continued as if you didn’t even speak, “I’ll deal with the paperwork. There are a few cases in there already for you to get started, small stuff but it will make you have to work with the PD,” 

You pulled out a clear sheet and flicked it to life. Skimming the file your eyebrows almost disappeared into your hairline, “Easy huh?” 

The file showed autopsy, and crime scene photos of a man, “It’s cold and the family wants closer,” John shrugged a smirk on his lips. “You can handle it, you found Shangri-La after all,” 

You rolled your eyes, remembering the extensive conversation you had with John the day before. You had been hiding out in his apartment for the past four days, he had taken time off of work in order to get you settled. You sagged a little with guilt, “You know you don-” 

John cut you off with a glare, “I put some money into an account, and I may have found an apartment near mine,” 

You grumbled taking the offered Bit-Coin drive, “John…” you trailed off; shaking your head you opened the passenger side door only to freeze when John gently grabbed your arm. “(Y/N) be careful,” 

Nodding you shouldered the messenger bag and shut the car door, John rolled down the window leaning over the passenger seat, “I’ll call you later when I get things set up then you can really get started, for now just do what you do best.” 

You smirk, “What I do best is get into trouble,” 

John grunted in agreement, “Just not too much trouble,” he begged. You smiled holding up your hands in surrender, “I will be good and not get into too much trouble,” you promised slowly backing away from the car toward your destination. 

“I mean it (Y/N)!” John shouted from the car at your retreating back. Waving a hand in the air acknowledging John’s request you disappear around the corner of a building. John huffed, his phone started ringing Dorian’s ringtone. Korean pop. 

Starting the car again John pulled back out into traffic, “Kennex,” 

“John where are you? You’re a half-hour late!” Dorian hissed over the line. John glanced at the clock and cursed, “I had something to take care of, I’m on my way now,” 

“The Captain is-” John hung up before Dorian could explain how pissed his boss currently is. Cursing again Kennex kept one hand on the wheel while the other rubbed at his temple an oncoming headache threatening to bloom behind his eyes. 

“All the C24 in the world can’t stop a damn tension headache,” he muttered sourly. He regrets nothing though. Seeing you again was worth it. Thinking back over the past couple of days John couldn’t help but feel the worry in his gut; the UAC were relentless and you had certainly kicked the hornet's nest. 

Your tales about traveling across the globe were amazing, the things you discovered, and the people you had helped. A proud warmth filled John, making him smile a little, “You’re really out of the pan into the fire Bug,” he murmured, running a mental checklist of all the things he needs to do to get you fully settled into the city. 

Picking up his phone John dialed an old number, the phone clicked signaling the person on the other end answered. “G, it’s John. I need a favor,” 

A low chuckled reverberated from the other end, “John Grimm, you’re in deep shit, my man,” 

The detective tensed scowling at the road ahead of him, “G-” the chuckles die down some. “Relax man, I got you, brother, what do you need?” 

“ID’s and accounts,” 

“Not for you I imagine. That girl of yours is…” G whistled, seeming appreciative and apprehensive. John’s scowl deepened as his contact continued, “Send me the details and you’ll get what you need by the end of the week,” 

Hanging up John took a deep breath, “I need to see how far the bounty goes,” he muttered as he pulled into the PD’s parking garage. 

The Captain when John sees her is not a happy camper, he slides easily into her office waiting for fireworks. She shoots him a glare as she finishes up a phone call, “I’ll let you have it later John, but right now I need you to go downtown. The Crown View is experiencing falling bodies,” 

John internally winced. The Crown View was five blocks away from where he dropped you off, ‘Damnit (Y/N),’ 

“I sent the case file to Dorian, get moving,” Maldanado barked and John didn’t waste time leaving her office. He practically flew across the bullpen toward the exit with his android partner on his heels. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he hissed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. 

The phone rang and rang until the voicemail picked up, cursing softly John picked up his already quick pace. “John…” Dorian’s voice questioning makes Kennex tense even further. 

“Not now Dorian, just trust me on this one, okay?” 

At John’s pleading tone Dorian simply nods, “I trust you,”


	3. Oops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a lot of fun to write and hope ya'll enjoy it! Oh and good news I officially have a beta for this story! Thank you so much @toppysammy (On Tumblr) <3

The sound of your hurried running echoes in the stairwell as you fly up the steps. Panting, you skid into the wall as you dodge a small barrage of gunfire. Instead of continuing up the seemingly never-ending staircase, you barrel through the forty-seventh-floor emergency door. Slowing down, you duck into a side office hoping that the very heavily armed men chasing you pass you by; taking deep calming breaths to slow your heart back down, you peek into your bag. Sighing in relief, you see that the computer drive you stole remains intact.

“Census data my ass,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes. The picture of a murdered young woman flashes in your head; the crime scene photos were pretty awful, her body mangled and twisted on a sidewalk. The PD declared it a suicide but the family of the victim--no, of Julia Lawson--was convinced that it was murder. 

And after some imaginative investigating, you were convinced right along with them. She was too happy. Engaged to be married, a good job offer in Boston, went grocery shopping the night before. Hell, she was even graduating college that coming June. 

The suicide note was a text. Julia was in school for classic literature and poetry; no way in hell would she send a suicide text. It was completely out of her character from what you gathered from her social media and your discussions with her younger brother. It took you precisely three hours to decode the case.

“Color me disappointed, wonder if they were paid off,” you muse quietly and make a mental note to talk to John about it later. 

Biting your lip, you slowly move out of the small office and out into the open. Careful to keep your footsteps muffled against the hardwood floor, you strain your ears to hear incoming threats. The thudding sounds of boots make you freeze and tense, your hand slowly inching toward the back of your pants where your gun sat snug and cold against your skin. 

The far door bangs open, letting five armored men into the room, gun raised and ready. Crouching low, you inch forward, weaving through the lines of cubicles while keeping your senses open. You decide against the gun and reach for the knife in your boot. Cocking your head to the side, you hear the distinct crackle of a voice talking quietly over an earpiece. The squeak of boots against the polished floor five feet from your current hiding spot make you grit your teeth. At least I won’t get into too much trouble, these assholes are black market, you think, hoping to ease your guilt. 

Taking a steadying breath, you grip your combat knife tightly. The armored merc strolls almost casually past you. His comm beeps, most likely looking for an update. He presses a finger to his ear, “All clear here.” 

You choke on a snort before creeping out of the shadows, staying just behind the man in front of you. Taking a cursory glance around the room, you spy two more mercenaries searching the break area and what seems to be the boss’ office. When they turn their backs you spring, clapping a hand over the man’s mouth and plunging a knife into the man’s neck. He gurgles on his blood for a second before crumpling to the ground. You fall with him, quickly muffling his crash to the floor. Pausing, you wait to see if the other men notice. When they don’t, you drag the dead man over to a shadowed corner. 

Huffing, you keep low and speed through the room, only stopping long enough to dodge and hide from the men in the room. Sneaking up to the exit, you gently pull the door open, praying it doesn't decide to squeak or groan. 

You honestly really should have seen the android coming. Sneaky bastards. 

Yelping, you fly over the cubicles right into the wall of windows. The reinforced glass cracks and spider-webs at the impact.

“Rude,” you mutter after sliding painfully to the floor. 

The android doesn't comment and stalks over to you. The mercs still in the room shout in surprise and raise their weapons. They form a semi-circle around you, cutting you off from your exit. Scowling, you stand up, spitting blood right onto Robo-dick's shoes. He doesn't much appreciate it. 

The Android springs forward and grabs you by the throat. “Not this shit again!” you splutter as your airway closes. 

He lifts you into the air and slams you into the glass again. It splinters and creaks under the pressure. Choking, you glance down, your eyes widening at the drop. 

No surviving that, you think dryly. 

Gritting your teeth, you release the android's tightening hand; with lightning-fast reflexes, you pull the gun from your pants and fire. Four shots and the mercs are down; they didn’t expect you to be that fast. You suppose it wasn’t their fault; they hadn't known you are superhuman. The shocked and horrified expressions stay with them like a bad picture. 

The mercenaries’ android tightens his grip even further causing you to choke and drop the gun. He twists and throws you to the ground at his feet and without saying a word he lifts a booted foot over your head and plunges it down. You grab onto it just in time, grunting under the strain you give his ankle a violent twist. 

Not expecting this turn of events, the android stumbles back a foot or two, his ankle twisted around. Without losing momentum, you kick out your leg, snapping his knee backward. Jumping to your feet, you rush the humanoid machine, grabbing one of the discarded guns from the floor. Cocking the gun, you fire, the gun discharging loudly, and the sound of the bullets against synthetic flesh make you wrinkle your nose. 

The android stumbles back into the compromised windows. The gun clicks, signaling that it is out of ammo. You drop it and surge forward. Without missing a beat, you twist and kick your enemy in the chest, sending him crashing through the window. 

The sound of a crash followed by horns and screeching tires make you wince. “I’m in so much trouble,” you breathe as you look down at the carnage below. Praying the dead android hadn't landed on anybody, you start to scrub the scene. Wiping your prints from every surface you could think of, you secure your unregistered glock haphazardly and peek over the ledge of the shattered window. Peering down at the street below, you hiss in frustration. Multiple police and fire trucks glitter below. 

“Good response time,” you compliment, both impressed and annoyed. Taking one last glance at the scene, you rush out the door back into the stairwell. Dashing down the steps onto a different floor, you enter another section of offices. Grabbing various items from different desks, you pull yourself together. You throw on a pair of glasses, put your hair up, turn on the crocodile tears, and affect a look of shock and fear. You curl up under a desk just in time for police to enter, guns raised. An officer takes one look at you and sees a scared civilian. He escorts you down to the lobby and points at the evac point. Rushing toward it, you watch out of your peripheral as the officer runs back to the elevators. 

You weren’t the best actress in the world but it was enough to convince the people around you, too preoccupied with the situation to notice you slip away into the gathering crowd. You would have made it too if it weren’t for the sudden strong grip on your elbow. Snapping your head up you see John looking down at you completely unimpressed. 

“I can explain…”


	4. My Bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, another filler chapter. The reader finally meets Dorian! The bickering and fluff is on point my friends and I hope I got enough tension in there for you. If not there will definitely be more in coming chapters!  
> Thank you to my lovely Beta Reader @toppysammy! 🥰

John’s grip is tight on your upper arm. Wincing slightly, you allow him to lead you over to his car. A handsome-looking android casually leans up against the passenger side door with his arms crossed. He looks at you curiously, obviously scanning you for ID; you give him a little smile when he doesn't come up with anything. John yanks open the backseat and shoves you in.

“Rude,” you mutter, straightening in your seat and pulling your messenger bag close. Looking into the bag, you check on the heavy drive that is nestled inside. It has a small crack but otherwise is undamaged. Sighing in relief, you blow a strand of hair out of your face. Both car doors open up in front and the two detectives get in, bickering. 

“Come on, John, you can’t be serious.” 

“You heard what they said; rogue android turned on the security team.” 

At that, you sink down in your seat feeling more guilty than before. John’s android partner rolls his electric blue eyes. “Security," he scoffs, "more like black market mercenaries. One of those men had a rap sheet longer than your attention span,” 

You choke on a laugh as John sputters and glares at the DRN; you had heard about this model, but it's a wholly different experience to meet one. John shoots you a hard look in the rearview mirror. 

“You wanna tell me what the fuck happened?” he barks, turning around in his seat so he can fully scowl at you. Clearing your throat, you think over your words carefully. To give yourself more time, you hold out a hand and introduce yourself to John’s partner. 

“I’m John's friend--” you glance at said man; he's losing patience. Grimacing, you amend, “I think…”

The android smiles kindly and takes your hand, “Dorian, John’s partner.” His deep and polite voice puts you at ease. 

Pulling your hand away, you look back at your angry best friend warily. You mull over what happened for a second before opening your mouth to explain, “Well, I figured out what happened to Julia Lawson, and it wasn’t suicide,” you jerk your head in the direction of the building. 

“The creepy death squad murdered her and staged it to look like a suicide. Which, by the way, was completely obvious; they did a horrible job. Whoever had the case was paid off to keep it clean-cut and closed."

Both men in the front seat looked shocked. “You mean you figured this out in, what, three hours?” John asks with a raised eyebrow. You simply shrug, “I have no red tape I have to constantly cut through. I talked to Julie's brother; he told me what I needed to know and I figured out the rest by using the internet. Breaking in was easy--” 

John cuts you off mid-sentence with a warning. He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing out his frustration. Dorian looks at you like you're an entirely new species; fascination, amusement, and disquiet all flick across his face. Biting the inside of your cheek, you watch the two carefully. 

“Look, Julie stumbled upon something very big and I think you should know about it,” you offer, holding out your bag like an olive branch. John watches you closely for a moment before taking the bag and looking inside.

“A hard drive?” he asks skeptically, pulling it out and handing it over to Dorian to peruse. You shrug and gave a smirk, “I downloaded everything I needed on to that thing; Julie’s ‘suicide,' who ordered it, and the plans Julie overheard that caused her death in the first place.” 

Dorian plugs into the drive and the more information he obtains, the deeper his frown gets. “This is very...wrong,” he says with a wrinkle of his nose. 

You grimace, “Yeah, I forgot about that part; it’s also about Speartips. Horrible name for a private tech company by the way; it's the CEO getting down and dirty with underage interns and paying them extra to keep quiet.” 

Dorian stops looking through the drive and hands it back to John without a word. The android’s eyes are as hard as his partner's. John looks back to you, anger still in his gaze. Sighing, your shoulders slump. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t mean to get caught by the mercs. The android was a new addition,” you defend quickly. 

“You threw him out a window,” John points out, losing patience with you. 

You throw up your hands, “HE started it! At least his body didn’t hit anyone."

John groans and shakes his head, “Pushing anybody off the fortieth-something floor is bad!” he scolds, starting the car. You scowl at John and cross your arms childishly, “Well, I didn’t like getting choked out. I panicked."

John winces at your words, his posture changing from tense and angry to sad and sympathetic. “I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t have done any of that if you didn’t have to,” 

Dorian’s attention jumps back and forth between you and John, his eyes widening as he connects the dots. “You’re the one who--” he cuts himself off and looks at his human partner. 

John sighs heavily and taps his thumb against the steering wheel anxiously, “This is where the whole trusting me thing comes in.” He looks over at the DRN pleadingly. Dorian stares at John for a nano-second before nodding and keeping silent about the whole thing. He was no doubt currently wiping your presence from everything involving what just happened. From camera feeds to bystanders, taking pictures and selfies of the chaos. 

“I really am sorry,” you mumble, feeling guilty for more than just putting John in the position that he's now in. Your best friend looks at you in his rearview mirror. 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, his shoulders slump just a touch. “I know. You’ve been away from people--well, civilian people for a while. You have to be more subtle from now on, though, alright?” 

You grimace at John’s words but nod anyway, agreeing to what he's saying. This is his home after all. He built a life here; and here you were, wreaking havoc in that home like a maniac. 

“What now?” you say in a voice just slightly above a whisper. Dorian glances over at his partner, wondering the exact same thing. John purses his lips as he drives through the city. You can’t help your wry smile in response; he always makes that face when he is thinking hard about something. 

“We should get you settled into a place. I’ve been keeping an eye out and I got a message from a buddy of mine. There’s a little apartment right near where I live,” he says, handing his phone over to Dorian, who downloads the directions and information. 

“I guess you do want your bed back, huh?” you ask with a slight chuckle. John huffs and nods, “My couch is great and all, but it does get a bit uncomfortable after a while,” he mutters with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Dorian smirks, “That explains the changes to your sleeping pattern,” he muses, making John scowl. “How many damn times--” he hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at the android only to be cut off by your snort of laughter. 

John’s lips twitch upward at the sound, the tense atmosphere of the car lifting as the car crawls through city traffic. “So, Dorian, has John ever told you the story about how he became addicted to noodles?” 

You immediately have the DRN’s full attention; John sputters from the driver’s seat unsuccessfully, trying to shush you. 

“Well, you see, it all started when he and I traveled to China and we stumbled across this little mom-and-pop shop. The food there was to die for, what was it called…” you trail off, trying to picture the little restaurant in your mind. 

“Little Bo’s.” John supplies with a fond smile.

You snap your fingers, grinning from ear to ear, “Little Bo’s! Oh, my gosh, they had some damn good food, and the owner was so sweet; she tried her best to teach John how to use chopsticks.” 

Dorian chuckles, “He still can’t use them,” he whispers none-too-quietly. 

John shoots him an offended look, “I can too!” he yells indignantly. 

Dorian rolls his eyes. “Not very well,” he mutters, ignoring John’s slight pout. You giggle and gently squeeze John’s bicep. 

“Maybe when I get settled, I’ll make you dinner,” you offer sincerely. You yelp when John suddenly hits the brakes and looks back at you with wide eyes. 

“Seriously?” he asks with a grin. You snort and nod. Dorian looks bemused at the action and his jaw practically drops when John holds out his pinky for yours. Grinning, you seal the promise. 

“Just let me know what you wa--” 

“Chicken and dumplings," he answers immediately. 

You snicker at the quick response. “I should have known,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 

Dorian is at a loss for words; he tries multiple times to add something but he can’t. He’s never seen his partner this relaxed and happy before (despite today’s events) and it's odd. However, it's a good kind of odd. John deserves happiness and that’s what you seem to make him. 

Just friends, Dorian mentally scoffs, smiling to himself as you and John bicker about the best dishes you've made in the past. Something deep within Dorian’s circuits says that someday you’ll end up being so much more. The heated discussion becomes a bit louder and suddenly changes to whose fault it was in burning down a rental in Rio. 

Dorian sighs. Maybe not today, but someday, he thinks ruefully before verbally stepping in to divulge how John once ate a slug in hopes to not offend an old Japanese man.


	5. A Lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay finally chapter five! I tried something a little different at the end so I hope you all like it! John is also coming to some realizations! 
> 
> Oh and thanks again to my lovely Beta Reader @toppysammy! You're such a doll!

You impatiently tapped the gas tank of your bike in the rhythm of the song playing from the car beside you. Traffic was at a crawl and you were stuck out in the open. You knew that you didn’t have to worry too much about that anymore but old habits die hard. You stood up, peeking over the cars ahead of you hoping to catch a glimpse at what was holding everything up. 

Squinting through your tinted visor, you spot the flashing lights of police cars and paramedics. “What’s going on?” you whispered to yourself, Too many to just be an accident, you thought, biting your lip; tapping the side of your helmet, you activated its built-in phone. 

“Call John,” 

The phone rang continuously for a solid three minutes before someone picked up. “Hello! How are you on this fine morning?” Dorian asked sweetly over the line. You rolled your eyes and smirked.

“Oh, I’m doing great! I would be doing a lot better if traffic wasn't so awful!” you snarled half-heartedly; you had a soft spot for the android. Your scowl became deeper when you heard John snicker in the background. “You’ve been a civilian for a month; give it time,” Dorian soothed and you could tell there was an amused smile on his lips. 

“What in the hell is going on downtown? I see the lights but--” 

You were cut off by the soft murmuring of John’s voice, “Let me talk to her.” The line crackled as the phone traded hands. “John…” your patience waning the more numb your butt got. 

“They found another body,” your best friend whispered, and your impatience melted away into sympathy. 

“Damn,” you muttered and sighed. “How many is that now?” you asked quietly, already planning a nice meal for the angry disgruntled detective. 

“Twelve,” 

The simple curt reply made you flinch. “ Do you need me to do anything?” 

“No, I--dammit--I just need to get a lead on this guy!” John growled. 

Biting your lip, you thought carefully about what you were going to say. “You know I can help with that,” you offered almost hesitantly. John was silent for a long time, so long that you almost thought he hung up on you. 

“You have enough on your plate already. Speaking of which, how was your trip to Canada? Any results?”

You grunted unhappily at the sudden subject change. “Canada was a dud. All I got was frostbite and a couple of idiots who didn’t know their mouth from their asshole.” You scowled at the memory of running into the Canadian versions of Cheech and Chong. 

John let out a bark of laughter. “The UAC is working hard on trying to run you in circles,” he murmured after he stopped snickering into the phone. You harrumphed, allowing your bike to inch forward with traffic. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t entirely come home empty-handed,” you sighed, smiling softly; you could almost see John raise an eyebrow in curiosity. “Are you gonna leave me in suspense?” he asked dryly. 

Your silence said it all, “I’ll see you later, John; I’m gonna break a few traffic laws, so I gotta go.” You hung up before your best friend could scold you. Revving your bike’s engine, you jumped onto the sidewalk and bypassed the standstill; the sound of cursing and honking followed you. Grinning, you flew by the crime scene, giving a wave to John and Dorian as you passed. 

John shook his head as he watched you zip by. “What am I going to do with her?” he muttered, breathing out a heavy sigh. 

Dorian grinned, crossing his arms. “I have a lot of suggestions but you’d just yell at me,” he teased.

John, knowing fully well what his partner was talking about, hissed, “Shut up, Dorian.” 

The android’s grin grew wider. “I’m just saying, man, you need to tell her how you feel,” he said, tilting his head in John’s direction. The detective glared at the crime scene in front of them, watching as the M.E. worked and the CSI techs bustled about gathering evidence. 

“She’s--we’re just close, Dorian. That’s all there is to it; we’ve known each other awhile and we’ve been through shit together. That’s it.” John declared before ending the conversation entirely by walking away. The DRN hummed to himself, not convinced. “Yeah, and I’m a real boy and my conscience is telling me you’re full of shit,” he said, knowing John could still hear him. 

The man in question flipped off the android subtly and kept walking. 

_____________________________

John sat hunched over a bowl of noodles, his mind drifting through the case he’d been working on for months. If he were a regular person, he would have been startled when you landed heavily onto the stool next to him. “If I didn’t know better, John, I would be worried about your cholesterol,” you murmured, scanning the menu flickering above an old man serving customers. 

John grunted, not even bothering to come up for air. After he was done, he took a swig of beer--pointless in your opinion--and turned to look at you. “What did you do?” 

You gasped and placed a hand over your heart, trying to look offended, “Why, John Kennex, I’m hurt! What if I just wanted to spend time with my greatest, bestest friend in the whole universe?” you asked, batting your eyes. John snorted, turning back to his second helping of noodles. 

“And I repeat; what did you do?” 

You pouted, “I--uh--well,” you hesitated, thinking over your words carefully. You wanted to gauge how mad you think the grumpy detective would be if he found out about your snooping. John shot you a glance, his shoulders tense, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. Swallowing what you were going to say, you drummed your fingers on the old countertop. 

“I got a new case; a missing girl," you said truthfully with a frown. John perked up a little, cocking his head to the side, interested. His silence prompted you to keep going, 

“The family already talked to the police, but it hasn’t been over twenty-four hours and it’s apparently not like her to just disappear.” you paused to pull out the little case file you made and tossed it onto the counter. It slid into John’s arm, he set his beer down to pick it up. Snapping the clear plastic back so it revealed what was on it, he read. 

Furrowing his brows he looked at you, “This was a year ago; I know the guy who looked into it. It’s a cold case,” he pointed out. Your lips twitched and curled at the corners; putting your best-confused frown on you tilted your head to the side. 

“Oh, really? That’s weird!” you gasped placing a hand over your mouth. John stared at you for a long minute before glancing back down at the case file in his hand. Swiping through it, his brows disappeared into his hairline. 

“That looks--she---” he snapped up to look at you his mouth agape. 

You winked at him and jumped down from your stool, “I gotta go; things to do, rules to bend, and so on,” you chirped. 

John was still speechless, “I--thank you,” he finally whispered. He shook his head ruefully. “You’ve always had a knack for finding things, Bugaboo,” he grinned, making you scowl at the nickname. 

You hissed, “God, I hate that name!” 

John grinned dumbly, “I know.” was all he said with a wink. 

A very unladylike snort escaped you. Grumbling, you lift yourself up on your toes. “Call me if you need me, okay?” you whispered clutching onto his shoulder. 

John’s tense shoulders relaxed under your touch, “Yeah, I’ll call you,” he lied. 

Huffing, you wrinkle your nose. “Liar,” you murmur. Placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, you turned and left, taking what warmth there was in the little shop with you. 

John sighed, tearing his gaze away from the noodle shop door. “Goddammit, Dorian.” A headache began to bloom behind his eyes. Rubbing his thumb on his temple, John read and reread the file that you had given him. 

“I’ll talk to her after I catch this guy,” he promised himself quietly. The kid behind the counter--Ben, if John remembered correctly--gave him a look and a raised eyebrow. “I will!” John barked defensively and curled over his bowl of noodles again. The kid nodded, looking unconvinced, but otherwise never said a word. 

John scowled, his eyes drifting back to the report you made him and a little note at the bottom caught his eye.

‘Find the girl and I’m sure you’ll get the lead you’re looking for. Love, Bug.’ 

“Find the girl…” he trailed off, rolling the file up to shove into his coat pocket. “Easier said than done,” he muttered, picking up his chopsticks. 

_______________________________

Two hours later John sat back on his couch with a glass of whiskey and the case file in hand once more. He looked between what you found and what he had gathered over the past few months. 

“Jessica ‘Jessie’ Williams, age twenty-four. Went missing 2047,” he frowned as a flash of sadness and guilt pierced his heart. Downing his whiskey, John set his glass on the table and brought up all the victim’s files. 

Each girl was the same age, had the same hair, the same eyes. He looked at Jessie’s smiling photo. “You’re his first, aren’t you?” he asked as if she were going to give him all the answers. 

“Who are you, Jessie Williams?” 

_________________________________

About one year ago, a young woman bopped down a crowded street. Her music blared from her headphones, making the world around her seem just a little bit brighter. Her morning coffee warmed her hands on that chilly Halloween day and she smiled at all the kids in costume walking with their parents to school. 

It was her day and nothing bad could ever happen. This was her fresh start. Well, that’s until she decided to go out on the town with her friends. The pier was open for the holiday before it was shut down for the winter. Monsters, ghosts, and ghouls roamed, scaring passersby. 

“Come on, Jessie, let’s go into the funhouse!” 

Jessie bit her lip nervously, eyeing the creepy-looking structure. “I---” she was about to protest but stopped herself. Taking a breath, Jessie set her shoulders. “Sounds like fun,” she said louder with a carefree smile. Her friends all grinned and giggled, moving one-by-one into the little house of horrors. Jessie was the last. Taking a deep breath, she walked on, carefully looking at every little pop-up scare. 

A clown jumped from the wall with a disturbing little giggle. Jessie yelped, startled before it slowly moved back to its original position waiting for the next sap to trigger its sensor. Chuckling at her edginess, Jessie smirked and moved on. This isn’t so bad, she thought, no longer afraid.

Her friends surged forward, trying to escape most of the attractions. They pushed and shoved, laughing breathlessly all the way to the exit. Jessie now saw everything in a new light; they weren’t as much scary as they were startling. Nothing in this place could hurt her. That’s what she had hoped, anyway; sadly for Jessie Williams, hope was never enough. 

Jessie went into that house of horrors and never left. She faded into the background and was viewed like another attraction. Yelps, screams, and laughs are all that followed. No one ever knew that one of the horrors was real. Until one day, after everyone had gone home and the rides were shut down for the season, a stranger wandered through. 

His demeanor was calm and relaxed. He looked at what was around him as if it were some kind of bad joke. He wrinkled his nose at it all, muttering about how he’d seen the real thing. If Jessie could she would have laughed and smiled; he was something new. Something refreshing. 

He slowly ran his flashlight around the room, looking into every dark corner and crevice. He only stopped when the beam landed on her. He gave her a sad smile and spoke quietly into a comm. Another moved into her line of sight; an android. If she could, she would have been curious and asked too many questions.

'Who are you?’ ‘Why are you here?’ ‘Why am I here?’ ‘Why…’

“I found you, Jessie Williams.”


	6. Reaper Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so when I originally started writing this chapter I didn't expect it to go in this direction. Things are really starting to heat up! And I bet by chapter title you can see Reaper makes his return! 😏 Enjoy the chapter everyone!  
> Thanks for the beta @toppysammy! 😁  
> -H❤🖖

You sat comfortably at the counter of a little Japanese food stand on Koln Avenue. It was definitely one of the shadier parts of town. You sipped your tea slowly, reading the old book set in front of you. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

You looked up and smiled at the young man behind the counter. He was sweet and obviously had a crush. “No, thanks, Henry. I’m all set,” you said kindly. Henry nodded and smiled before moving on to another customer down the bar. Your eyes casually roamed the room, taking in every threat, possible weapons, and emergency exits. Your current target sat quietly in a corner booth. He looked as subtle as a giant neon sign. 

What are you up to? You wondered curiously. Now, there are a lot of odd and unseemly characters but this guy was nervous and obviously waiting for somebody. 

Looking down at your book again, you picked up your bowl of noodles. Keeping the twitchy, squirrelly man in your periphery, you ate slowly, only just skimming the words of the book at your elbow. It was handwritten and entirely in Gaelic; Henry had commented on it and you had simply smiled and said it was an old story about portals and other worlds. It wasn’t a lie. 

The ARK in Ireland was a major pain in my ass, you thought with an internal grimace. The shop door opened with a ding. Quiet, precise footsteps scraped against the floor until they stopped in the dark corner. Looking up through your lashes into the mirror behind the bar, you froze. It took almost everything to keep your face neutral and your head down; the man who walked in was someone you recognized. Fury burned through you and you struggled to keep it down to a low simmer. 

Humming quietly, you finished your meal at record speed. Swiping your credits, you slowly gathered your things. “Leaving so soon?” Henry asked, wiping his hands on a semi-dirty dish towel. Wincing, you gave Henry a strained smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go meet a friend,” you said with a little wave backing toward the exit. The men in the corner paused their heated whispered conversation. Before they could turn to look at you, you were out the door and into the night. 

Breathing hard, you fumbled with your phone, scrolling through the contacts and hitting John’s name. Pressing the device to your ear, you glanced over your shoulder; they were following you. 

“I’m kinda busy right now!” John greeted, sounding tense. You swallowed hard. “John, take a few days off and go to Siberia. It’s nice this time of year,” it was all you said before you easily snapped your phone in half. Tossing it aside into a gutter, you hurried your pace, turning down an alley. 

____________________________________

John ducked down to avoid getting shot in the face. His heart thudded and his eyes were wide, his phone dropped by his feet. He looked over at Dorian who was shooting him worried glances. “Siberia,” he whispered before picking up his phone and crushing it in his hand. Gritting his teeth, John pulled out his gun, “Dorian I gotta go,” he said, knowing the android could hear him over the firefight. 

Dorian spluttered, looking at his partner like he was insane. “John wha--” he was cut off by Kennex standing up and firing his weapon like it was part of him. The gang members they were fighting fell one by one until there was no one left standing. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Dorian stood up with a shocked look on his face. his eyes scanned the dead men. Every single one of them had a bullet between the eyes. “That’s impossible,” he whispered and turned sharply to confront John but he was no longer there. If he had a heart it would have dropped into his stomach. 

John ran. He desperately needed to find you. He made it to Koln Avenue, scanning the area for any sign of you. Spotting your usual hang-out spot, John moved toward it. A crunch under his foot made him pause. Looking down, he saw your phone snapped in half and lying in the dirt.

Thunder boomed overhead as he took a deep breath in. The air smelt like blood, booze, human waste, and jasmine. John’s head whipped around, his eyes glinting in the flash of a car’s headlights. Following the sweet smell, John prayed that you were alright and not doing anything stupid and heroic. 

Round the corner into an alleyway, John stopped short. A trail of blood led him further in. Cursing under his breath, John moved forward. Thunder clapped again and lightning lit up the sky. Shouting permeated and a pained shout made the hair on John’s arms stand on end. 

Rushing forward John pulled his gun making sure his footsteps were quiet and muffled. The sound of grunting and a struggle was clear. Rain poured down from the sky in droves matting his hair to his head, if he were still human he wouldn’t have been able to see a damn thing. 

“Fucking bitch!” a man’s voice yelped out pained. John gritted his teeth moved out of the shadow he was standing in. He whistled catching the attention of one of the mercenaries that surrounded you. 

A shot rang out and the merc was on the ground before he could open his mouth. “Damnit, John. I told you to stay away!” you ground out gripping onto the dumpster behind you. John’s eyes flicked between you and the men surrounding you, catching every little detail and nuance. You were off-balance, a syringe lying at your feet, blood dripped from your shoulder, your eyes glazed and your balance failing. They drugged you. How?

The dead man landed with a heavy thud on the dirty ground. The rest of the little group turned in synch their weapons trained on him. John smirked, “I’m giving you a chance, leave now and never come back. Or I kill you.” he offered coldly. Reaper was back and he was pissed. 

You sighed numbly fighting the drugs that coursed through you. It was enough to kill someone normal twenty times over, but you? It just made you woozy and want to pass out. John stood several feet away from you, muscles taught, gun raised. 

You let out a little giggle, “I’d take the deal guys,” you snorted stumbling back into the brick wall of the building behind you. John raised an eyebrow cocking his head to the side slightly in a challenging manner. The mercs looked at each other with amused expressions, guns still raised pointing at your best friend. 

“Guess not,” you mumbled with an eye roll sliding down the wall ready to watch the bloodbath that was about to occur. ‘At least the rain will wash it all away,’ you thought raising a hand to catch a few of the pelting drops. 

Through blurred eyes and a buzzing mind, you watched as John took out the mercenaries that were after you. Snorting again you chuckled, “Show off,” your voice slurred as the last man fell with a wet thump. John was at your side in a matter of moments taking your face in his hands as he tried to examine your pupils. 

“I’m fine, just high,” you whispered with a little smile, guilt bubbling up your throat burning your heart. He pressed his lips into a thin line and stroked your cheek whipping the rain away. “How’s your shoulder?” he asked quietly, you frowned moving a little. “Fine, healing quickly,” you sighed feeling the muscle, tissue, and skin knit back together. 

Lightning illuminated the sky making both of your eyes glint eerily in its light. He unbelievably close to you, so close his breath brushed your lips, his forehead rested on yours. At that moment you noticed things about John that you didn’t before. 

“You’re dumb,” you declared breaking the tense atmosphere so you could breathe properly again. John barked out a strangled laugh as he pulled you to his chest in a bone-breaking hug; you melted easily into him. He was shaking all over, if it was from the cold, or the fight, you didn’t know. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hugged him back just as fiercely. 

“No, what’s dumb is that you almost left again. That’s not going to happen (Y/N),” he growled out making you laugh. Sniffing you pulled back slightly so you could look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry but I saw-” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head. 

“Okay I’m dumb but I’m also really high right now and things are spinning,” you choked out feeling nauseated. John nodded and detangled himself from you, he looked around at the dead mercs with pursed lips. He was thinking. 

Running a hand through his soaked hair John decided on his plan of action. “Okay, we don’t have long until Dorain tracks me down so…” he mumbled mostly to himself. Shucking his jacket he draped it over your shoulders in hopes to keep you warm and got to work. 

Burrowing down in Johns’ jacket you must have drifted off because before you knew it, you were being lifted into the air by your best friend - a relationship that was now really complicated- who was covered in dirt and god knows what. Wrinkling your nose you gave the man a look, 

“You smell like ass,” you muttered voice dry. John huffed a little laugh and cleared his throat, “You don’t wanna know Bug,” 

Nodding in agreement you looked around the back alley, it had been completely cleaned of death and blood. You gave John an impressed look, “Wow, nice clean-up job.” you complimented taking note that it had stopped raining. 

Kennex grimaced, “I had to call in a favor or two,” he mumbled not very happy about the debt he now owed. You frowned, the worry lines in your face becoming more prominent. “Who-” John cut you off quickly. 

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up,” 

You let it drop, for now anyway. John balanced you in his arms, trying to open a car door. “I can walk John,” you said with a pout only to be ignored and set in the front passenger seat like a child. Crossing your arms you watched as he rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, 

“Am I grounded?” you asked sassily with a raised eyebrow. John shot you a look and started the car with a sigh; multiple different feelings were zipping around the small s[ace. Picking at your nails you blushed thinking about the almost kiss the two of you shared. Your mind was still jumbled as you tried to form coherent thoughts on the feelings that you had buried deep inside yourself. Now they were back like they had never left in the first place. Complicated wasn’t even the word for what was now the relationship between you and John. 

You felt a warm hand brush your hair back making you jump a mile high. John gave you a worried look, 

“Go back to sleep,” he urged gently turning on the heat to full blast. It was only then you saw that you already halfway out of the city. Clearly, you were still on whatever those creeps gave you, mumbling nonsense under your breath you sank deeper into the heated passenger seat. 

Letting your eyes drift shut you felt John gently curl his pinky around yours, hearing “I promise,” as you fell into the dark.


	7. Look No Further

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter seven! This one is a bit longer for your reading pleasure. Thanks again to my wonderfully awesome Beta-reader @toppysammy! 🥰 I can't really say anything about this chapter otherwise I'll give it away soooo all you're getting is...*Evil Laughter*  
> -H❤🖖

John tapped out his report at a small desk in a corner of the cozy log cabin he had brought you to. His face scrunched in frustration and concentration. You smiled a little at the way his nose crinkled. You momentarily paused in your task--cutting up carrots to go with the pot roast you were making--and watched him. 

John rolled his neck. “I feel you worrying,” he muttered without looking away from his work. You sighed heavily, setting the knife down.

“I still think you should let me lead them away so you can go back to the life you created.” you bit your lip and looked down at the counter, your shoulders slumping under the weight you forced yourself to carry. John looked up no, giving you a hearty scowl.

“No way in hell are you going off again by yourself. You’re crazy enough as it is,” he grumbled, whispering the last part under his breath. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Hey, I’m trying to be all self-sacrificing but you’re ruining it!” You tossed a dish towel at his head but only managed to land it on his shoulder. 

“I think you both are insane,” a new voice interrupted from the couch in the living room. You and John looked at each other with arched brows. Dorian looked over from the TV with an amused glint in his electric eyes. “Oh, shut up. Fucking toaster,” John mumbled, turning back to the terminal. 

“And are you gonna help me find a killer or not?” He barked out over his shoulder. 

Dorian’s shit-eating grin grew bigger. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Chuckling quietly, you picked up your knife again, the thoughts of leaving John still in the back of your mind. Festering. You didn’t want to do it, you really didn’t, you wanted to be selfish and stay with him for as long as you were both alive but there were so many doubts in your mind that kept you from making that final decision. 

Now that Dorian knew the truth it was like some heavy burden was lifted off of your best friend’s shoulders. He smiled a bit more freely, and he was acting like he used to. Like everything was going to be okay. Your mind drifted again, back to Oldulvai and the unit. Both of them. A pain of sadness and regret made your stomach sour and your mouth dried up. Faltering with the knife, you sliced your hand wide open. 

Hissing out a little curse, you grabbed for the dish towel only to realize it was no longer there. So preoccupied with the bloody gash on your hand, you didn’t see John until he was right there pressing the dish towel onto the already healing wound. 

“I’m fine,” you reassured, lifting the now blood-soaked cloth. Examining the cut you hummed and pouted. John didn’t say anything. He simply put the towel back in place and held it there firmly. He looked up away from you to glare at Dorian, who was in turn grinning like a kid on Christmas. The android bounced over to you and looked down at your hand with fascination in his eyes.

“That’s truly remarkable,” he breathed in awe. You clicked your tongue, no longer impressed by your speedy healing ability. “We may heal fast but that doesn’t mean this shit doesn’t hurt. Never, ever get impaled by rebar, by the way; it’s a bitch.” you said with a mock grimace and chuckled at the DRN’s horrified expression. John snorted, a small pained look on his face.

“Was that just the once or…?” he asked, looking at you, perplexed. You winced and held up three fingers. John’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Three times! Wow, you’re like an ad for tetanus and recklessness,” he muttered dryly and picked up the towel again. The bleeding had stopped and the cut was completely scabbed over. He huffed in approval.

“You’ll live,” John sighed, taking on a mock-serious tone. You gave him a crooked smile, “Thank you, doctor, I’m eternally grateful,” you teased with a rather terrible southern belle impression, all the while pressing your uninjured hand to your forehead in a mock faint. John barked out a laugh and moved over to the roaring fireplace. Tossing in the soiled towel, he turned back to you, hand on his hip. 

“Now, what made you slip like that? Are you okay?” he let concern color his tone. Dorian cocked his head to the side, clearly wanting to know as well. 

You stuck out your tongue at the both of them. “I was thinking about the surprise I was supposed to give you about a week ago but forgot. We were both so busy with caseloads and then the whole UAC thing and…” you trailed off, frowning and sidestepping the real problem. John turned his head ever so slightly, indicating that he knew it was bull but he wasn’t about to push. 

“You got John a surprise?” Dorian asked, not even hiding his curiosity or nosiness. 

You coughed out a laugh and grinned. “Yeah, yeah I did,” you said, walking over to your dirty messenger bag that hung by the door. Reaching in you grabbed a thick manila envelope. Turning with a flourish you dramatically showed it off. 

John furrowed his brows in confusion. He walked up to you and took the envelope, turning it in his hands. Reading the simple scrawl on the front, his eyes widened. The breath left his body and he looked up at you for confirmation. You smiled softly and nodded to his unasked question. 

“How?” he breathed, his hands shaking as he tore open the top of the envelope. 

“Favors, a lot of favors,” you said, remembering how much of a headache the task had been. But it was worth it. Pulling out a stack of papers and pictures, John laughed lightly and grinned down at what was in his hands, his eyes dusted with so many different emotions. 

“Sam,” he whispered, stroking the top picture. You looked down at the photo with subdued happiness. The room was still and silent as John read the long letter in his hands. He slowly walked over to the couch and sat down with a giddy, shocked expression on his face. You crossed your arms and shifted, looking away to give John a minute to compose himself. You looked at Dorian whose face was blank, trying to understand what was happening. 

“She and Duke got married, and they had a baby boy. Another is on the way,” John choked out, setting the letter down so he could look through the photos. 

“I have no idea where she is but those went through a lot to get here,” you whispered, moving so you stood behind the sofa. John turned the pictures so you could see. Duke stood beside Sam with his arm around her shoulders, smiling widely. Sam’s smile was just as big. She showed every bit of love in her eyes. A beautiful baby boy sat in her arms. He was waving his arms, face frozen mid-giggle. 

“What’s his name?” Dorian’s voice broke the emotional silence. John laughed, wiping his eyes and looked away embarrassed. “They named him John,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with his two friends. 

A grin split across your face, “Good name,” you breathed, placing a hand on his shoulder. John relaxed at your touch and turned up to look at you.

“Thank you.” 

You smiled and winked. “Anytime,” you said truthfully. John set everything down beside him and stood. He grabbed you roughly, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Burying his face into your neck, he kept murmuring Thank you over and over again. Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your chin on his shoulder. You barely noticed Dorian leave the cabin. 

The two of you stood there intertwined for several long minutes before John pulled away from you. “Duke and Sam,” he breathed, shaking his head in happy disbelief. 

You snickered. “Yeah, you must be blind if you didn’t see that coming,” you sniped playfully. John grabbed a throw pillow and smacked you with it. Belting out a laugh, you shielded yourself from the onslaught.

“They were goo-goo-eyed the first time they met!” you defended, dancing out of John’s reach. The man grinned at you, eyes alight. Sighing, you felt the silliness dissipate. You followed John’s gaze to the dimmed terminal. 

“You found her,” you whispered encouragingly. 

John pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have even known about her if you didn’t dig around,” he said, sounding rueful but grateful. Running a hand through his already messy hair, John gathered his letter and pictures together to put away in a safe place. 

You shrugged. “It was just information, you did all the rest,” you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As John walked past you he looked down at you and smiled an amused smile. “What would I do without you?” he asked, making you scoff. 

“Starve, always be confused, and not have a constant headache over your right eye,” you said with a cheeky wink. John spluttered out another laugh before moving over to the desk. He opened the top drawer and popped open the false bottom. After locking his precious cargo away, he turned to see you back at the kitchen sink cleaning up and getting a new knife. 

I would be miserable, he thought, unable to think about what he would do if you were gone forever. 

You looked up and gave him one of your classic looks, one that said What are you moping for?

“Stop pouting and get over here and help me; I want to eat by at least nine tonight.” You jerked your head over to the far counter which housed the roast, ready and waiting to be seasoned. John sighed in fake annoyance and slowly trudged over to the counter. He wrinkled his nose at the hunk of beef. “Oh, stop making faces, you big baby.” You huffed, kicking up a leg to hit him in the butt. 

The two of you worked while chatting and talking about John’s case, tossing ideas and theories back and forth. “Jessie Williams, it has to start with her. You could try looking deeper into her; maybe there was someone in her life that was...hinky,” you offered, dumping a handful of potatoes into the crockpot next to you. John leaned against the counter by your left hip, looking contemplative. “Hinky?” he asked after a minute with an amused smirk. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. 

“It’s a good word!” 

John pursed his lips trying to hide a smile, “It’s a good word, but I don’t think Maldanado will accept it on the official report.” he said and you pouted a little. 

“That’s lame,” you grumbled, tossing in the last of the veggies and closing up the pot. Wiping your hands on a clean towel, you leaned on the counter next to John.

“Just say suspicious. Which is boring,” you said with a click of your tongue.

The front door of the cabin opened, allowing Dorian entrance. “You guys done being all mushy?” he asked, secretly hoping the answer was no. You coughed, slightly embarrassed. 

“Yeah, Dorian; we’re done being ‘mushy’.” John said in a slow drawl. You could see red creeping up his neck; feeling the same, you looked away, hoping to hide your own blush that glowed faintly on your cheeks. 

Dorian hummed, not convinced. “Okay,” he murmured, extending the word. Turning to look at John, the android frowned. “The Captain called; she expects us back tomorrow with some results,” he warned grimly. 

John winced but nodded in understanding. “I have a few leads I want to check out when we get back, anyway.” He sighed, his hand going through his hair again. He needs a haircut, you mused silently. 

“Leaving after dinner, then?” you asked with an arched brow. 

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Yeah, and you better be here when I come back to check on you,” John all but growled. Rolling your eyes, you held up your pinky expectantly.

“I swear on baby John that I’ll be here when you come to check on me,” you intoned seriously. John watched you for a moment before nodding his acceptance and winding his pinky with yours. Dorian’s eyes flicked between you and John for a solid minute, a grin never leaving his face.

“Not a word, D, I swear to god,” John hissed, sticking a warning finger in the DRN’s face. Dorian held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever, man, but that was so sweet,” he said, bouncing on his heels. John tsked at his partner while you laughed at his expense. He turned his scowl on you but it didn’t deter you whatsoever; you kept laughing. 

Many hours later, after dinner, you waved from the door of the cabin, watching as John and Dorian got into the car to head back to the city. Wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself, you watched until the car disappeared entirely. Your heart sank, you just couldn’t help but feel that something was coming. Something that will change everything. Your entire body vibrated with warning signals that said get out while you still can but you just couldn’t. You were in too deep. You fell and continued to fall. If you were being honest with yourself then you would say that you started falling as soon as he soothed you in that infirmary all those years ago. 

You shook your head and headed back inside. Closing the door firmly behind you, you swallowed hard. “Things are too complicated right now,” you whispered to the emptiness. The fire crackled and popped in response. Grumbling curses under your breath, you move over to the couch and turn on the TV. 

“I’m in love with my best friend, that’s just fucking awesome,” you groaned and screamed into a pillow. Panting, you glare at the actors blowing things up on the screen in front of you. “That is so not how you do it,” you muttered, unimpressed. 

Despite your best efforts, your mind kept drifting back to John and his, well, his everything. You blushed fiercely for the millionth time that day. Taking a deep breath, you looked down at your phone. Don’t call him, you’re just being stupid. You breathed out a breath, trying to ease your nervousness. Tapping a finger on your leg absentmindedly, you look at the device again; the feeling didn’t go away. 

Something was going to happen, but to whom? God, you hoped it was to you. John doesn’t need any more stress. The man already has worry lines and you’re honestly surprised you hadn’t made him go grey yet. Biting your thumbnail, you closed your eyes and listened to your surroundings. The TV faded into the background, the fire becoming white noise. The wind howled through the trees, making leaves flutter to the ground. A crunch and a creak made your eyes snap open. Getting up, you flew over to a side table that contained your gun. 

With a snap and a moan, the power died, leaving the room illuminated only by the fire. Cursing colorfully, you pulled open the drawer and grabbed your sidearm. Loading it, you cocked it and clicked off the safety. Slowly moving forward, you sidestepped the creaky floorboards and hid in the shadows behind the front door. 

Waiting with bated breath, you only realized it too late. You never saw the tubes sliding into the room via the fireplace and the cracked window in the kitchen. The gas filled the small space quickly. You coughed and choked, sagging against the wall. Gagging, you stumbled forward, falling to your knees. Your gun clattered to the ground and slid away from you. Mumbling a curse, you crawled toward it. 

The front door flew open, sending the fog-like smoke dancing across the floor in wisps. The sudden breath of air gave you a sudden surge of energy. Three figures entered the cabin wearing gas masks. They look wrong, your dizzied mind supplied stupidly. “Now that’s a first,” one of them said, sounding amused. Another huffed, annoyed.

“Did you get the dosage wrong again?” he asked. Definitely a 'he', your mind supplied. The other just hissed and flipped the guy off. “No, I didn’t get it fucking wrong!” they ground out angrily. You scrambled to your knees, shooting them your own glare. 

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you growled lowly, baring your teeth. The smaller of the three jumped back toward the one who was merely observing. 

The man snorted as if you were the equivalent of an angry kitten. He stepped forward and kicked you to your back, grunting you continued to glare at him in warning. The guy looked over at his partners, laughing. “Fiesty one,” he chuckled. If you were human, you would have a broken nose and a severe concussion from his next action. The man lifted his dirty sneaker-clad foot and moved to stomp your face in; he didn’t get that far. With lightning-fast reflexes, you took hold of his foot and twisted. Still holding his broken ankle, you pulled and made the man fall to the floor next to you. The tiny one--female, you finally decided--screamed out the man’s name in surprise. 

Scrambling to your knees, you grab dirty-shoes by the hair and smash his face into the hardwood floors. The sickening cracking and crunch made your stomach churn, but it was you or him and you needed to contact John. Looking up at the other two, you seethed, trying to keep your breathing under control. The gas was still circling despite the open door, and if anymore got into your system you didn’t know what would happen. The third person--the observer--stepped forward, looking at you through his gas mask like you were a curiosity. 

“Now what are you, my dear?” he asked, kneeling in front of you, unafraid. “I think he’s dead! Daddy, he’s dead!” the girl shrieked, pointing at the man beside you. The observer hummed almost disappointedly.

“Now, that’s a shame. Francis, if you would?” he asked almost kindly and your eyes widened. A fourth. There was a fourth. A mask was shoved over your face and the gas was unloaded into your lungs. Coughing, you struggled, hitting and clawing at the pair of arms that held you down. Francis grunted in pain but didn’t release his hold. The struggling did you no favors because pretty soon the gas muddled and numbed everything. I’m so tired of getting drugged, you thought sourly as you sagged against the man behind you. 

“Jesus, Pa, I gave her twice the dosage! She hits hard, too! You think she’s on something?” Francis asked, dropping you unceremoniously next to his dead brother. 

The observer chuckled. “We have something special, I think,” he mused, taking your chin in his hand. You would have struggled but you couldn’t move, you were paralyzed. 

The Observer brushed away your hair. “We have much to discuss, my dear,” he purred into your ear. Shuddering, you cursed at him with your eyes. He just chuckled, dropping your head with a dull thud. 

“Get her into the van and burn down the cabin,” he ordered. The two siblings did so without complaint. The world spun and turned like you were being sucked down a drain, the stars above glittered and the cold of winter was setting in. The brother, Francis, carried you out of the cabin before tossing you into the back of a rusted-out brown van. The doors slammed shut with finality and your last thoughts for the foreseeable future were: I’m in so much trouble.


	8. You've Got Mail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter this week guys! The plot thickens and John is not happy. Big shout out to my beta reader @toppysammy! Thanks again, sweetie! 🥰  
> -H❤🖖

John left Maldonado’s office with a deep frown marring his face. He dragged his hand down his face with a quiet groan. 

“So we got a lead on our killer?” Dorian said, not even hiding the fact that he was eavesdropping. John sighed. 

“We got a connection but it seems a bit off, something isn’t right,” he murmured with a shake of his head. Dorian frowned. Cocking his head to the side, he quickly reviewed the new evidence. Jessie Williams and her friends entered the haunted house and everyone but Jessie left.

John crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, waiting for Dorian to finish. “Look at the girl in the back, then look at the footage of all of our crime scenes,” he said and watched as Dorian’s temples glowed blue. The android's brows furrowed.

“She’s at every crime scene but--” 

John hummed in agreement to the unsaid assessment. “But she was in class at the college or has an alibi for each time of death,” he muttered and shook his head again. “Don’t get me wrong, there are female serial killers--” 

“11% within the last century,” Dorian mumbled, causing John to roll his eyes and wave away the numbers and statistics. 

“My gut is telling me that she knows something or may even be part of something bigger.” 

“More than one killer,” Dorian breathed, catching on to John’s line of thinking. The detective pulled out his chair and brought up the case file; each girl smiled at them happily from the screen. It made John want to punch something, hard. 

“She has to be working with somebody,” Dorian whispered right next to John’s ear. The semi-human leaned away slightly and gave his partner an annoyed look. “Someone who controls her, but I don’t think they have complete control. She’s at every crime scene; if I were in charge, that would be a big no-no,” he swiped through, bringing up grainy images of the girl.

“We know who she is yet?” John asked and Dorian nodded as he pulled up a picture.

“Flora Harkin. She goes to the city college for…” Dorian paused and straightened. John’s shoulders tensed, waiting for him to continue. “She’s studying forensics and she’s interning with CSI,” he said and John groaned. He rubbed his temples.

“Guess that explains why we haven’t gotten anything conclusive from them. She’s covering their tracks,” he growled, angry with himself and angry that he hadn’t caught it sooner. 

“Her schedule says she should be in class right now,” Dorian said but John didn’t hear him. Something deep within his gut was telling him something was wrong; very, very wrong. His head snapped up when Maldonado’s heels stopped a few feet away. She looked at him with a look of anxiety and trepidation. Dorian gripped the back of John’s chair as he stood up, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Another body?” he asked through a clenched jaw. Sandra shook her head and held up a plastic sandwich bag with a small, black USB drive nestled inside. What made a shiver run down John’s spine was the fact that the little device was covered in blood. 

Dorian moved forward and took the baggy from the captain. He opened it and carefully plucked the drive from the bloody mess and set it down on John’s desk. The terminal read the drive for a long moment before a video popped up. 

Kennex stiffened as a man sat down on the screen. His face was old and he looked like he had seen many horrible things in his lifetime. Things that he caused. John gritted his teeth as the old man gave the camera a crooked, amused smile. 

“Detective Kennex, it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’m sure this video will find you well, and--” the man chuckled, his voice dry as sandpaper. He shook his head and looked up. His dull, watery blue eyes looked excited. 

“You have been after me for several months, Kennex, and I’m disappointed. You couldn’t even figure out that my daughter has been right under your nose all this time, and a PI manages to find the connection for you.” the old man's chuckles turned into howls of laughter. John crossed his arms, not taking the obvious bait. The maniacal laughter died down and the old man grinned wickedly at the camera again. 

“You have a lovely cabin, it’s very tranquil.” he hissed and the air from John’s body left him. His hands clenched into fists and a low growl erupted from this throat; so low only Dorian could hear it. The android shifted closer to his partner in hopes of giving the man some semblance of calm or warning. 

The old man moved and twisted the camera around so it was facing you. You glared at it defiantly, your eyes droopy and muddled. A type of gas mask was fitted over your nose and mouth. He was pumping you full of something and whatever it was kept you numb and docile. John felt a little sick. The old man figured a few things out. 

“Such a beautiful and curious creature you have, John. She managed to resist a paralytic that should have easily knocked her unconscious. We had to triple the regular does just to get her to hold still. And even while drugged she managed to kill my son. What is she, John?” 

Everyone was quiet and looking at Kennex curiously. John closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In, Out, In, Out. 

“John,” Dorian warned in a whisper and the man slowly opened his eyes. Tension and anger were rolling off him in waves. The old man bent down and gently ran his fingers across your forehead and down your exposed cheek. You tried to pull your head away but it did little good. John scowled at the image and watched how the old man looked at the camera again. 

“Let’s see if you can do this on your own, John. Find her in time and I will come quietly. If you don’t...well, better luck next time. I do hope you find her, John. She is quite the specimen.” 

The screen went black and a timer slowly counted down. He has one day, seven hours, and one minute to find her alive. 

“Lost another girlfriend, Kennex?” Detective Paul asked snidely with a raised eyebrow. John whipped around, his eyes practically glowing with anger. It was enough to make Paul sit down heavily in a chair with wide, scared eyes.

“Paul, that’s enough.” Sandra snapped angrily, ignoring John as he seethed. They both know that she’ll be talking to him later about it all and the conversation wouldn’t be pretty. 

Stalking away with Dorian on his heels, John muttered under his breath, “Sweetheart, you are in so much trouble.” 

It was time to go look at the crime scene back at the cabin.


End file.
